Thinking about a modern Draco and Hermione. It’s raining, the pavement reflecting the streetlights of a bustling Friday night.
Draco spots Hermione from his car. She’s struggling to keep her umbrella open from the wind. Pinching his nose, he wonders if he’ll regret his actions. He puts his signal light on, pulling over to the side.
Hermione cautiously watches the blackened window of the silver car lower. Her hand ready to pull her wand if necessary.
“No need for hostility, Granger,” Draco says cooly. The lock of the passenger door pops up. Hermione furrows her brows. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to open a car door.”
“Of course I do. I’m just wondering why you’re offering it to me. We don’t exactly get along.”
“It’s pouring, what is it you muggles say, ‘rats and frogs’?’”
“It’s cats and dogs.”
“Just get in the bloody car!”
Hermione stared him down. He hadn’t changed much since Hogwarts. His hair was a little longer, the lines around his eyes wore heavy, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. For a moment she wondered—
“Are you getting in the car or not?!”
Typical bastard.
“I’ll take my chances with Poseidon.”
“Fine!” He shouted. He mumbled something under his breath, no doubt a dig about her muggle ways. With a rev of the engine, the sedan drives off.
“Fucking prat,” she grumbled.
Hermione heaved her work bag back on her shoulder and made her way to the bus stop shelter.
The smooth rumble caught her attention.
Mouth agape, she watched the same silver sedan back up right to her spot at the bus stop.
The black window rolled down.
“Get in the damn car, Granger.”
The heat blasting from the safety of—safety? Never in all her years did she think she’d associate a Malfoy with safety.
Hermione juggled her things and got into the car. The warmth wrapping around her like the tea her mother used to make at Christmas.
She watched as he rolled the window up. A silence fell between them, the radio playing a delicate song in the background.
The sliver of skin peaking through his black button down caught her eye. Draco could feel her eyes on him. If he wasn’t so annoyed at her stubbornness he’d welcome the attention. Even if it was that know it all Granger.
“Normally I don’t mind ogling, however I’d like to not obliviate a police officer again—”
“—again?”
“…never mind that, put your seatbelt on!”
Hermione reached for the seatbelt, locking it into place. There was no turning back now. She didn’t know if the heat from the car or from watching him put the car into gear and turn the wheel with the heel of his hand, made her stomach turn over on itself.
“Thank you,” she mumbled watching the lights she normally passed by slowly on the bus ride home.
“You’re welcome Granger.”